Sintanaro was leaning against the stall door watching the peredhel groom her horse. They may not be leaving for an hour but it was obvious to the man she was more at ease now than when he first went to her room. However, light conversation seemed useless and even his challenge was disregarded. The woman seemed lost in her own world.

Suddenly Anoriel shot through the main door with two men behind him, yet when he took in the current scene he stopped.

“Sintanaro!”

The dark hair man pushed himself up from the stall door. “I’ll be back sweetheart.”

The two men passed him as he made is way to where the leader now stood. Anoriel had heard his comment. “Do you intentionally try to anger every shieldmaiden or just the two we are currently protecting?”

The man let out a slight laugh. “Our shieldmaidens seemed to be a bit preoccupied these days. This one won’t engage unless it is to roughen up Rohirrim men and our precious Rholarowyn is now seeking solace in the arms of a man over the hilt of her sword. Like the elves, perhaps the time of the shieldmadiens has passed.”

Anoriel remained cool, “Ryomer needs another hour before we can leave, go see if there is anything you can do to help.”

The man left easily enough leaving the leader standing at the barn entrance and two new men now replaced the one as Earendil’s protectors.

Anoriel was well aware of the situation at Goronor’s farm. He had sent Sintanaro there 2 days ago. It was the day following Ryomer and Eari’s arrival and new orders were sent with him. First the men of the knighthood who were still there, Dewelgen and Tyrelles, along with Lienoril were to be on high alert due to the new information and threat against Rholarowyn and her son. Second, they were to remain at the farm until the group from the Noble house arrived. The message concluded that the group was going to be delayed a day possibly two.

When Sintanaro returned the following day Anoriel was more than surprised to learn of Rholarowyn’s actions. Not only had she compromised herself and her safety by engaging in a late night tryst with Estaron, Goronor’s brother, she had also begun training Lark, a shy young woman, in the basic skills of archery. Unbeknownst to the leader, and to add to the current complications, Sintanaro and Rholarowyn had some obvious unresolved issues that the dark haired man had clearly neglected to tell him. To say there reunion was tumultuous was a bit of an understatement.

Sintanaro now entered the house and made his way to the healing area. The dark haired man entered and let out a long, slow whistle after a brief look at the Rohirrim’s face.

“Perhaps you should stick to those Innkeeper’s daughters.” The man joked.

“Leave him be!” the healer ordered pushing the man aside and placing a new cold towel upon the Rohirrim’s face as he rested on the fabric cot. “He needs to rest.”

“I’m here to help.” Sintarano smiled turning a chair around and taking a seat in it backwards.

“Yes, I am well aware of how useful you are with your mouth as you let me know every chance you get.” The healer then turned and left the room.

“Yep, I think she’s starting to like me.”

The Rohirrim voice was low and slightly muffled by the towel covering his face though the sarcasm could not be missed. “You think they all like you.”

“Well…I’m not the one with the bruised and bloody face done by the hands of a woman now am I?”

“No, your beautiful face has once again been preserved.”

“You know,” Sintanaro began as he scooted his chair closer to his friend. “I have a theory here.”

“Wonderful.” Ryomer replied with more sarcasm.

“Perhaps Earendil has some unresolved issue with her husband and well, since you are both Rohirrim, you’re just getting the brunt of it.”

“Perhaps,” Ryomer began slowly, “you are confusing yourself with me.”

The dark haired man raised his head in slight offense as the Rohirrim continued. “Speaking of unresolved issues…Anoriel told me what happened.”

“Ha!” the man shot back and rose from his chair. “That woman can hold a grudge!”

“Really?” The Rohirrim turned his head slightly, “Even after you apologized?”

Sintanaro turned towards the north facing window and stared out.

“You didn’t apologize did you?” Ryomer finally stated. “Well then what did you expect after 12 years.”

Just then Alessan reentered the room with a fresh batch of herbs and a cup of cool tea. She glanced disapprovingly at Sintanaro and then made her way over to the cot. “Drink this; it should help with the clotting and the pain.” Ryomer sat up slightly and took a few small sips.

“I talked to Lienoril.” Sintanaro said turning from the window and obviously changing the subject. “Turns out Zochella now has employment at Daenora’s place. That’s why he separated the group. He didn’t want her to know that you and Earendil were with him.”

The Rohirrim sat up a little higher though he maintained his grip on the mug. “Zochella…” his voice slightly raised. “…here?”

“Yes and just as vengeful as ever it appears.” Sintanaro replied.

“Did she talk to him?”

“No, she got to Rholarowyn but that was enough to shake him up.”

“Lienoril severed that tie long ago…what would cause her to leave the south and forsake her allegiance to the Corsairs?”

“Whoa…” Sintanaro reached out and steadied the man on one side while Alessan jumped to assist on the other. “Where’s the fire?”

“I need to speak to Anoriel!” Ryomer asserted.

“OK…alright…” Sintanaro heard the urgency and immediately left the room. Alessan helped ease the man back on the cot. “You are not going to get out of here if you don’t keep still!”

Within 10 minutes both men were in the room. Still needing to rest Ryomer remained flat on the cot and after Alessan had been dismissed the two men pulled up a couple of wooden chairs next to the Rohirrim. Ryomer then looked to his leader. “Do you know why Lienoril disobeyed orders and broke up the group?

Anoriel looked at Sintanaro and then back to the Rohirrim. “Yes, to avoid being revealed by a woman from his past and to protect you and Earendil.”

“Yes, but it was not just any woman, it was Zochella…” The Rohirrim continued. “…and why? Why would she let Lienoril know she was there when she didn't have too?”

Sintanaro began to follow Ryomer’s thinking and continued. “There was a reason she wanted to get him out of there but went through Rholarowyn to get him the message.” The man paused for a second. “Perhaps she isn’t another threat but instead was giving Lienoril a chance to get away.”

She had felt the man's presence ever since he took Anoriel's place; there had been tension in him, the purpose of someone who wants to fight at first. And then he had calmed as she ignored him. Despite the oath they would not leave her alone. She could be angry about it or make do. Since she promised she would not ride away, she might as well do with it.

So she concentrated on preparing Autumn; the horse had been nicely settled. The truth was that the commoness of the movements gave her a sense of calm that she had lost in that room. Stables were part of her: if she closed her eyes she could see the barn of the house that she had come to call home. The smell of hay all around was reassuring; she could almost see them too. It was...

"I’ll be back sweetheart."The words cut through the blanket of serenity she had tried to place around herself. She turned around to notice that dark haired man, Sintarano, move to stand by Anoriel.

"Do you intentionally try to anger every shieldmaiden or just the two we are currently protecting?"

He might not have known that she'd hear him or maybe he did and commented on purpose but it was loud and clear to her.
"Our shieldmaidens seemed to be a bit preoccupied these days. This one won’t engage unless it is to roughen up Rohirrim men and our precious Rholarowyn is now seeking solace in the arms of a man over the hilt of her sword. Like the elves, perhaps the time of the shieldmaidens has passed."

She turned around sharply; that man was really trying to irk her. Did he have grudge to lay at her feet or something? Or maybe at Rhoe's but since she was not there. Anoriel knew she had heard and his answered was cool, "Ryomer needs another hour before we can leave, go see if there is anything you can do to help."
And that might have been meant for her as much as to Sintarano.

"Really?" She motioned to the two men who had replaced the one who just left. His eyes had followed Sintarano out with some concern in his eyes but when he turned he looked certain. He might trust her oath but would not take a risk; he knew her life was in danger and she was not safe here. The two men would be help if anything happened.

"What did I do to that man Sintarano? Or what did either of us do?"
"Not my story to tell." Ah... so something that may have happened between that man and Rhoe. He looked at her sharply. "I know what you are thinking... and let me be clear. I need both of you unscathed. One man wounded is enough. So no fight."
She shrugged. "Not caused by me."
"That is not satisfying Earendil; no fight."
"Fine!" She answered. "Just make sure to tell him too. Because if that is not what he wanted when he took your place I am willing to follow you without a word of complaint to wherever it is you want to bring me."

The dark man rolled his eyes.
"I wish you all would take this threat seriously; these people are no Sauron, but really we can't afford such childish behaviour."
It fell like a cold rain on her shoulder but she had no time to reply as the man was approaching the stables again.

There was urgency in his voice when he asked Anoriel to go see Ryomer. The leader turned to her, or to the other two men.
"Stay here."
She nodded; she was not going anywhere. She had given her word. She was not perfect or happy about it but that meant something.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

The late afternoon air had cooled significantly sending most of the residents and guests at Goronor’s farm inside. Seeing that Nayaran had found a new friend and Dewelgen was teaching them both a new card game Rholarowyn decided to retreat back to the guest house. Tyrelles escorted her back and once they were both inside she began to build the evening fire. Now that Sintanaro had delivered the orders and had left neither she or Nayaran would be left without at least one protector at their side at all times.

Tyrelles was a quiet man and found a seat near the far side of the room. The shieldmaiden remained on the floor resting on her knees, watching the fire grow. When the ache in her legs grew unbearable she repositioned herself on the floor and rested her back against the bed Lienoril had slept in the previous two nights. The flood of conflicting emotions was almost overwhelming and she was grateful for the quiet. Closing her eyes she began to slow her breathing and calm her mind. Rholarowyn’s maintained her focus only on her breathing, one breath in, one breath out… So deep was her meditative state that when she finally opened her eyes and stretched out her legs the room was almost as dark at the outside sky. Lienoril was now sitting in the chair that Tyrelles had been in, it was his voice that gave him away.

“I’ve brought you some dinner.” He said as he stood, walked towards the fireplace, and set the plate down on the floor right next to her.

The Gondorian then spent some time restarting the fire and then moved to the sturdy chair and leaned forward while resting his arms upon his knees. Sounds of the wood cackling and cracking filled the room as the fire eagerly ate at the new fuel. Both stared silently into the flames until her stomach could no longer ignore the smell of fresh meat, potatoes, and the fruit that lined the nearby plate. When all but a few pieces of food had been eaten, the Gondorian broke the silence.

“Rholarowyn…do you think I’m a fool?”

“Well I…” she stuttered after an exaggerated long silence. “I mean, I think…” she began awkwardly and then paused again. “Lienoril,” she finally managed to say more coherently, “I think I am, well, surprised that you even care what I think.”

The man continued to stare into the fire as if searching for some answer to be revealed in the orangey blaze. “I loved her you know.” He quietly uttered.

“Who?” Rholarowyn finally asked after another long silence.

“The woman you talked to at Daenora’s...”

“Did she love you? The shieldmaiden asked hesitantly.

The man breathed in deeply, leaned back in the chair, and raked his fingers through his long dark hair. “Yes…no…I don’t know, I thought she did.” He then turned and looked seriously towards Rholarowyn. “Have you even done anything foolish for love?” Yet just as he finished the sentence he laughed at the absurdity of the question. “Of course not, Rholarowyn the shieldmaiden, niece of Denethor, cousin to Boromir and Faramir, a Mithril Knight who eared the title of The Warrior Bard of the White Tower. You, the one who vowed your heart to Gondor and pledged your honor to protect her lands…” Yet his laughter ricocheted with the echo of his pain.

“You have clearly missed the tales of my early years in Gondor…” She added with a smile which then faded. “…and now I have a son from the East. I think there will be many who will not be able to overlook that and I will always be perceived as a traitor of Gondor.”

“The shieldmaiden has fallen from grace.” He added with hint of new sadness.

“I have heard those words before…and I will hear them again.”

Just then a log cracked open and spilled out onto the hearth. Instinctively Rholarowyn grabbed the fire poker and quickly maneuvered back into place though she did not move afterward. Sitting back on her heals she laid the fire tool across the top of her thighs. “There was a man once,” she began and then paused loosing herself in a long forgotten memory of many, many years ago…

It was the long awaited wedding of Luera and Hobbit where she had first met him, her first man of the East. She was inside the Inn doing her best to console her first mentor and fellow Gondorian, Culanir, who had been and was still deeply in love with the bride of the day. All was going well until they heard a loud crash from the staircase above. When Culanir had jumped up she had been right behind him. Instinctively she reached for her sword and then her heart leapt into her throat. All that she grasped was a handful of fabric from her dress, her reluctant choice of attire for the wedding day.

Quickly she looked around the area, and her eyes caught the only thing nearby that would work as a weapon; the fire poker lying harmlessly on the hearth. With no time to spare, she grabbed the poker and was quickly at Culanir’s side, concealing it in the outer folds of her dress as two men came tumbling down the stairs.

“Cease this madness!” The Gondorian Knight yelled, but neither man responded. Culanir's next words reached only her ears. Yes the two men would have to be stopped.

The red headed knight jumped right in grabbing hold of the back of the Easterling’s tunic and pulled him apart from Maelgwn the peredhil. Culanir then flung him into the wall, his eyes ablaze. The man was stunned for a moment, but then turned to take on this new attacker. As Culanir approached him from behind, the Eastron turned around and threw out a punch that sent Culanir backwards into her. The knight recovered, but she did not, and the momentum carried her back into the railing of the staircase..

She quickly glanced in the direction of the other man sitting on the floor, who appeared to be catching his breath and but then her attention quickly retuned to her friend who was now on top of the Easterling. Culanir had hold of his head, banging it against the floor, his aim to render the Easterling senseless. Grabbing the fire poker with both hands, Rho waited for a moment where Culanir might need her help.

Suddenly the Easterling’s knee came up from behind and connected hard with Culanir’s back, which only infuriated the Gondorian even more. He answered this latest assault with a series of punches to the Easterling’s ribs; His fist finding it mark with every hit. Culanir’s rage was then answered, with a new rage from the Eastron. It expressed itself with a sharp blow to the Gondorians head, stunning him momentarily and long enough for his attacker to regain his feet.

With the Easterling’s back facing her, she moved in quickly and with all the force she could gather directed a solid hit across the Eastron’s back with the poker and was about to go for another, when he then turned to face her.

“Rholarowyn! Here!” Were the words she heard next, and before she fully realized what was happening, a nearby Rohirrim had tossed her a sheathed dagger. Dropping the poker to the ground, she had just grasped the weapon, when she heard the words of the dark voice of the Easterling man.

"No 'woman' are you...."

The sting from his hand slapping her across the face was sharp and swift. Her grip loosened and the dagger fell to the floor. Quickly she dropped to her knees, trying to reach it, but couldn’t. The dress, the skirt of the dress, was preventing her from crawling across the floor, towards the one thing that she desperately needed to reach.

It was not to be, the Easterling reached the weapon first, and before Rho could do anything, the dagger’s blade was hard pressed against her throat, while she remained helpless on her hands and knees.

Get up!!” Was all that he said.

Closing her eyes she swallowed hard. There was nothing to do but to get up and she understood that. There would be no struggle.

Slowly she made her way onto her feet. And when she was standing the strong arms of the Easterling he pulled her in close.. The blade still firmly pressed into the skin of her neck. If his touch wasn’t bad enough, the smell of his sweat and fresh blood along with his hot rapid breath next to her ear was almost unbearable.

With a jolt he began pulling her backwards towards the stairs.

Suddenly she caught the movement of the Rohirrim out of the corner of her eye. So did the Easterling and he spun her around in his direction. The blade pressed even harder into her neck.

“Stay back, Horse-boy! Has the hand of the Sultan reached Rohan as well... filthy assassin pigs....all of you!..you have no honour! "

When the man moved no closer, the Easterling continued to slowly pull her in a backward direction, towards the stairs.

Just when they reached them, her eyes met Culanir’s. The look in his eyes she could not read, but in her eyes there was only anger; anger that she’d been so careless. Yet she knew that this anger would not serve her so it was quickly replaced with determination.

She continued to look at Culinar, to hold his gaze, hoping that her thoughts would somehow be conveyed to her friend. She would cooperate with the Easterling man, named Moujahain,, who was half way up the stairs keeping her securely in his grasp and compliant to his will, as anyone with wits would do with a knife pressed to their neck. He was right; she was no 'woman'. She was a trained warrior, this he could tell. She was fit, agile, her muscles tensed and ready and the silent communication she was having with the Knight at the bottom of the stairs told him much…

"A woman?" Moujahain asked with a sneer while stepping up a few more stairs, careful to keep the knife at the right pressure, so not to break the wenches' skin. "She's no woman... she's a warrior and fair game.”

He ascended two more stairs up and Moujahain saw how the trio of assassins followed, ascending only one stair, very slowly…

"She's yours, isn't she, Gondor?" Moujahain taunted eager to repay this Knight for his broken left ribs. He pulled the woman up another step. "Yes, I can see it in your eyes." Moujahain now scaled two more steps, keeping the woman in front of him as he backed his way up the stairs. No sound came from the second floor, he noted not good.

"Know this Gondor, Moujahain spat, "If I had more time - I wouldn't need much, less than an hour - she would soon forget you and instead yearn for the East." At this the woman shook with rage and Culanir surged forward but stopped, seeing the slow trickle of blood on the Easterling's blade held firmly at Rho's neck.

Suddenly the front door of the Inn swung open, flung by a party of men and woman, all elderly and attending the wedding, and despite the sunny day all were looking for a bit of warmth by the fire. The sight before them on the stairs stilled their happy voices.

Seeing this was his moment, Moujahain turned, swinging the woman captive around and dashed up the remaining stairs. The sound of heavy boots on the stairs told him he had only seconds to re-arm himself.

Once in the bedroom, Moujahain stopped and for a split second faltered. There was much blood and his friend and mentor was lying on the floor, lifeless and pale. Over him was one of the assassins, Edain. Rage and grief coursed through him, had failed his friend, his Commander of old.

The woman warrior, having remained alert, sensed this moment of shock and with all her strength jammed her elbow into Moujahain’s left side. With a cry of pain and anger, he involuntarily released her. His rib cage seethed and Moujahain dropped onto his knees, gasping for air.

“Rholarowyn?” Lienoril’s concerned voice broke through as he saw the tears running down her face.

Quickly she pushed the fire poker off her legs, wiped her face, and pulled herself back from the heat.

“Where did you go?” He asked easing himself forward in the chair.

“South.” She finally answered turning away, “I went South...for him.”

He leaned in closer. “Who? Who did you go to the South for?”

She nearly choked on his name. ”Moujahdin…he saved my life, he asked for help, I wanted to see him again…so I went…”

“Moujhadin? The man who could have easily had a harem of a hundred women...You went South for THAT Moujahain?” The Gondorian asked still confused.

“Yes.” She whispered unable to look him in the eye.

"Then perhaps we are both fools..." he replied empathetically and placed his hand upon her shoulder.

.

Last edited by Rholarowyn on Sun Sep 16, 2012 1:35 pm, edited 2 times in total.

"It was Zochella..." It took a moment to Anoriel to process the information. An instant during which Sintarano, following the Rohirrim's trail of thoughts, mentioned a theory about why she had spoken to Rholarowyn.
That his second on this assignment forgot to mention this particular name upon his return from Goronor's place caused Anoriel another flash of frustration. His voice rang cold as he spoke; it was time Sintarano stopped acting as if this was a game that would allow him to test his charms on their two charges.
"And do you care to elaborate as to why that name was not mentioned when you reported to me?"

The dark haired man turned to him sharply as if he had been whipped. He looked as if he were about to make a response but Anoriel cut him short.
"I seem to recall I asked for everything, everything that they told you. Not what I needed to know, everything that was said. What made you think this name was information I did not need to hear?"

Anoriel stopped himself; he was not a leader who chastised his men in front of others. It was not good for the group; but that was too much to take after what had happened upstairs with the peredhel and Ryomer. He shook his head.
"We'll talk about this later." Sintarano was not going to appreciate the punishment for that but he could not let such things happen amongst his men. "Zochella cannot be good news."

He was unlikely to ever forget the fiery red-head who years ago made sure he would not. The scar that ran from his eye down to his torso was a constant reminder that women could be better warriors than men. She came close enough to him that she almost killed him. He on the other hand almost got Lienoril hanged in the days following his recovery believing him a traitor only to discover that the Gondorian had fallen in love with the corsair who in turn had used him to get to him.

This was turning out to be more of ball of knots than even the King could have foreseen. And there would be snakes among the ropes for sure as they started to pull the threads away. He looked at Sintarano.
"Prepare your mount. You ride with us. Your horse will be ready for you Ryomer." Sintarano opened his mouth and closed it right away. "We ride soon. Be ready upon my call."

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

Alessan was waiting at the end of the hall when Anoriel closed the door with a jolt and gave her a directive. “Do what you need to do, we need to ride soon.”

“I can give him something for the pain but he won’t be very lucid.”

“He’s a Rohirrim,” Anoriel answered as he continued to walk by. “They are born knowing how to ride horses.”

“Sir!” Alessan asserted. “I am going with you.” The leader stopped in his tracks and turned back. “I won’t stay here, not now, and from your tone I suspect my services may be needed again.”

When she returned to the room Sintanaro was just leaving. “Anoriel has sent another order, you are to ready a horse for me as well.” The dark haired man left the room seriously wondering if adding yet another woman to the mix was really a good idea.

The healer moved in close to the Rohirrim who was still lying on the cot. “How are you feeling?” she asked while removing the waded towel.

“Better…a little better anyway.”

“Ryomer, I’m sorry but there is no more time for you to rest. I have some herbs, strong herbs, that will help eliminate the pain during the ride but the affects will disorient you for some time.”

“I’m fine, really,” he tried to reassure her as he sat up and felt the room slowly spin.

Her hand quickly stilled his body “I think you should have a little something.”

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

He was standing by his horse eyes flicking between the peredhel and Sintarano who was - to anyone who knew him and Anoriel did - sulking. The man had not particularly appreciated his discussion with Anoriel; neither had the leader.

Eari looked at least somewhat more at ease than he had seen her since she arrived. Maybe because they had given her her weapons back. She had taken some time to clean herself; her hair was still dripping but she'd braided it. He had seen Sintarano look at her as she did so and he too had observed although for reasons of his own.
He could not understand to this day how she had managed to hide she was an elf; there was no mistaking the ears. It was a long time but he was wondering how it was that he had not noticed until he and Sharra took her out of that room. The braid was hiding them though, which he would have asked anyway. Though there was no pretending she was a man anymore even in the clothes they had given her, he could ensure her safety by making sure only his men knew who she was.

They were all ready; well at least he deemed so although he knew Alessan felt differently about Ryomer. The healer's eyes rested numerous times on the peredhel with a hint of annoyance and disbelief, but mostly she seemed to focus on her charge. Ryomer looked as if he was going to hold at least for a while. Naliond had departed before the Rohirrim came out of the building to deliver the messages Earendil should have. The man knew how to get in and out discreetly; no one would know he had come. There was nothing the woman had to report in person and she had written it all before leaving Fornost. Naliond knew where to meet them in Rohan. The others would leave within the hour towards a different direction; Minas Tirith and the throne room where they would report to the King. There was much that he needed to know as soon as possible.

"Sintarano, you ride ahead, Alessan and Ryomer, Earendil..." He would ride last; he and Earendil should identify any pursuit if any came. Sintarano would alert to any threat from the front.
Almost instantly - even the Rohirrim - all were astride and riding in order. It was fast but it could not have been fast enough to his taste. Still he knew he had mounts and men and two women to care for; Alessan had not ridden in such a group in years and while she knew what it was to ride with a company she was no longer used to this type of things even though she would probably slap him if he made any mention of it. He found himself smiling as he rode behind the other woman.

She on the other hand seemed completely at ease on the horse and he knew that it was only her word that held her where she was. She was riding a pretty good horse from Rohan and she could outrace them if she so wished. Eyes ahead, his ears listening to what was happening behind he found they were making good speed.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

When Sintanaro had arrived to inform Lienoril, Dewelgen, and Tyrelles about the current situation the dark, curly haired man had also informed the men that the Ryomer and the Earendil were going to be delayed for at least a day, possibly two, allowing them time to rest and recover. Once summoned, Rholarowyn had then learned that she and Nayaran were under a new threat but when she pressed the topic further, no other information was provided. She and her son were now to be accompanied by at least one member of the Knighthood at all times until the entire group reached Rohan. This decree had come, not from the King, but from another player in the mix and one none of the men would speak further about.

Her frustration only increased when her protectors used this declaration to prevent Rholarowyn from any contact with Eistaron. During the last two days they had seen each other only at mealtime and then were effectively kept apart. However, the daylight in the dining room had provided the shieldmaiden the opportunity to observe the man more closely. His brown, wavy hair reached just reached past his shoulders and his close cut beard matched in color. Several inches taller than her 5’8” height, his build was lean yet muscular though it was more in line with someone who did hard physical labor than that of a soldier. At one point during lunch on their eyes had met and the shieldmaiden felt the immediate spark of electricity dart through her veins.

Following Sintanaro’s departure later the next day, Rholarowyn had retreated to the one place where solace could be found; the makeshift archery range. Despite Tyrelles sitting nearby, the woman easily lost herself in the flow of the bow. Each nock of the arrow, each pull of the string, each moment of release brought a sense of calm, peace, and inner focus. There was no target to be shot, no bulls-eye to be hit, only the ease and discipline of a powerful energy centered within her being as the outer world slipped away.

It was now morning of the third day and the group from the Noble House had yet to appear. The sheildmaiden expected either their arrival or another message before the day’s end. The azure sky was clear and the air cool and crisp. Once breakfast had been finished, Rholarowyn, Nayaran, his new friend, Tesse, and Lark took to the archery range down near the lower barn.

“Mom, can we move the target back?”

Rholarowyn looked up from assisting the young woman with her arm guard. The two boys had easily sunk all of their arrows into the middle of the target.

She laughed. “Yes, I think that would be best or you will have that center shot out before lunch.”

Setting their bows down, the two boys eagerly made their way down the range and pushed their target back 20 yards from where it had stood. Once they returned, their competition began again.

“Alright,” Rholarowyn said to Lark. “Go ahead and shoot a few arrows to warm up.”

As the shy, young woman released her first arrow, Rholarowyn instinctively began to evaluate the young woman’s form. Her posture was good, though her bow arm was still a shaky and she was still having problems consistently placing her other hand in the same position on her face when she drew back. Patiently Rholarowyn worked, first with Lark’s anchor position and then one by one, making the other needed adjustments. Shooting 6 arrows at a time, eventually some of the arrows began to cluster even though they were not always in the center. The young woman was showing some consistency with her form and the results were reflected in her smile.

“See how this arrow is so lower than the others?” Rholarowyn asked as they began to pull Lark’s most recent set of arrows from the target. “This is because when you released the string you dropped your bow. If you keep your arm up and strong, pushing slightly into the bow it will help to keep your arm your arm steady and it will not drop. The young woman nodded.

“Why did you choose to fight?” Lark quietly asked when they had returned to the shooting line.

“What do you mean?”

“The sword, the bow, why?”

“Let’s take a break.” Rholarowyn suggested as she pointed at a table over in the shade and not too far from her two protectors. Placing the bows down upon the wooden table both women sat down.

“I was 14 when I first picked up a sword.” Rholarowyn began. “Not long after I learned my father was murdered for his horse. I wanted to avenge his death…”

“But once you did that, why did you go on?” Lark asked in her soft spoken voice clearly familiar with some of Rholarowyn’s past.

“I realized that I could make a difference…I could use my skill with a sword to make the good stronger and evil less. At 16, your age, I stood atop the White Tower and made a vow to forsake the love of a man and instead give my heart and soul to forever protect Gondor with my sword. Two years later the War of the Ring began and I felt my fate was sealed.”

Lark, with the soft doe like eyes, looked down at Nayaran and Tesse engaged in a new game and watched as each boy was trying to now split the arrows. Rholarowyn too observed as they worked to destroy their new targets.

“Nayaran’s father, he was the one who helped me learn the Way of the Bow.” She offered voluntarily as her thoughts turned inward. Silently her mind recalled the memories of those horrific first few months in the South. After the deadly ambush deep on the Harad Road and resulting deaths of every other member of the 12 man Gondorian convoy, there was her 5 month imprisonment in the enemies camp. Subjected to conditions one only could equate with hell, her captors were experienced in the delicate and precise practice of physical and psychological torture leaving their captives desperately seeking the one and only final relief, death, which some were granted but she was not. The unconscious and instinctive need for survival eventually connected to what was left of her rational mind when the camp was attacked by yet another enemy. Once she found a sword in her hand she fully sought warfare and revenge without any regard to living through the slaughter that was taking place on the moonless night. When the edge of a blade had penetrated her deeply not once but twice rendering her weak and useless, she had fallen among the other bodies. Yet she was not filled with feelings of regret or failure, or even sadness, but instead a calm accepting peace. Atop the cool desert sand she gazed upward at the star filled evening sky for one last final time and patiently waited for death to find her among the massacred. However, it was not to be and her redeemers would come not from the South, or even her beloved Gondor, but instead from the Lands of the East.

Letting go of her thoughts from the past once again Rholarowyn finally turned to the young woman. “And what of you…why do you seek to learn the art of the bow?”

Lark shifted her gaze down to her hands which were fidgeting in her lap. It took some time before at last she answered. “There is a man…”

Rholarowyn gently asked. “And this man does he thinks highly of women who are skilled with a weapon?”

Lark shifted her gaze upward. “He thinks highly of you.”

The shieldmaiden smiled. “Well, I can make no guarantees his affections for you will grow through this endeavor, but, I can at least help you to acquire more skill with a bow. Shall we?”

“Yes,” the young woman’s eyes lit up as she rose from the table.

.

Last edited by Rholarowyn on Sun Sep 16, 2012 2:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.

The Rohirrim was doing alright considering. Once they passed the outskirts of town Sintanaro kept the horses speed at a gentle, rhythmic lope. The pain in his nose had faded and with the relief came a new sense of mystical awe of the world around him. Flowers danced, blades of grass waved, and the songs of birds turned into beautiful music. The Rohirrim wondered how he had not seen this all before.

Now riding single file the five riders had slowed to a walk. They had entered an old forest and the path was slightly overgrown. However, it was the same path Sintanaro had taken to the farm and back only days before. A small stream on their left was swollen from recent rains and the rapid waters crashed upon the rocks with such force as if attempting to push the large boulders down stream.

“Let’s stop here.” Anoriel voiced when the trail opened into a slight clearing 10 feet away from the raging water. The leader remained mounted while Alessan stepped down from her horse and led him to a small calm inlet. The gelding drank eagerly from the waters edge.

The grey light of dusk camouflaged by the canopy of trees was slowly surrounding the group.

“Ryomer…” the leader turned in his saddle. “How do you feel?”

“I am fine your Lordship.” He answered after bowing down in his saddle. “…and prepared for battle.”

“Good.” Anoriel replied a bit confused.

“We won’t make the farm before nightfall…” Sintanaro announced to the group, “…but if we get out of these woods before darkness comes it will…”

“Wait!” Ryomer raised his hand then leaned in. “Do you hear that?”

Instinctively each rider reached for the hilt of their sword. “What is it?” Anoriel asked pressing his horse closer to the Rohirrim.

“Shhhhhh....that…there it is again!”

Anoriel looked at Earendil knowing the extent of the peredhil’s keen sense of hearing. She shrugged in reply.

“The elves were right…” Ryomer turned to the leader with all seriousness. “…the trees, they do speak...”

Anoriel turned to Alessan who had remounted her gelding. “I thought you said it would only disorient him.”

The healer spoke quietly. “It can have a hallucinogenic effect on some, especially if the dosage is too high.”

Sintanaro rode up next to his friend and quietly asked. “What do the trees speak of?”

“It is an ancient language to be sure.” Ryomer answered seriously. He then followed with a series of long, slow, moaning like sounds which, at least to the Rohirrim, believed he was now thanking the trees for his newly gained wisdom.

Before the group departed and Ryomer’s clear translation that the trees had given the group their blessings, the Rohirrim’s nose stared to bleed. Alessan was prepared and when they finally emerged from the woods and entered a large open meadow, it was for this reason Alessan insisted that the group keep their mounts to a walk.

The stars were staring to appear and the Rohirrim, who was now holding a rag against his face, found himself fixated upon their brightness. Tails and trails of light swarmed through the sky forming into pictures of faces, people, animals, towns, and large cities. Then after forming they would swirl away. Alessan watched the man closely as she remained by his side.

“Sir! I have good news.” Ryomer’s loud but muffled voice broke the silence. The group pulled up their mounts as he lowered the slightly red fabric from his face. “We shall make it safely to the Golden Hall.”

Sintanaro used all his restraint to maintain his composure. “And how do you know this?”

“King Théoden has decreed our safe passage through these plains.”

“Really?” Sintanaro continued on. “King Théoden and where is he now?”

“There.” The Rohirrim pointed to the stars in the Eastern sky. “Well he was.” The Rohirrim turned and shifted around in his saddle examining the northern sky. “Well perhaps he was called away, he is a busy man.”

.

Last edited by Rholarowyn on Sun Sep 16, 2012 3:46 pm, edited 3 times in total.

Dinner was finished, dishes were washed, and family and friends had gathered in the main room. Sestelar, the Bard of the North, had arrived just before supper and was now entertaining as well as informing the small group inside. His news was tame, keeping in mind the family's recent experience and were still filled with grief. For this reason alone many of his songs and stories were full of mirth and whimsy. Yet when Sestelar took out his fiddle and began to play an old dance tune from Rohan, Rholarowyn quietly slipped out of the room and on to the main porch. Someone would follow though which of the three knights would, she did not care. Leaning against the railing and gazing down the long empty road that led to the farm, the woman watched as the sun hung just over the horizon casting long shadows upon the ground.

“CAWWWW CA CAWWWWW CA” The evening message from the ravens flying south announced that darkness would soon arrive.

“They should have been here by now.” She heard Tyrelles’ voice behind her. Rholarowyn nodded in response.

Ten minutes later the sun had set and Lienoril found the two still on porch. Laughter could be heard coming from inside with pleased him knowing the distraction would be helpful. “Rholarowyn, would you come with me?”

Turning to acknowledge and dismiss herself from Tyrelles, the shieldmaiden made her way down the stairs and followed the Gondorian to the guest house. Smoke was just stating to billow from the stone chimney as he stopped on the porch. “I wanted to give you some time with Eistaron."

Her shock was obvious.

Go on,” the Gondorian urged, “he’s waiting inside.”

Lightly he touched her shoulder as he hesitantly pushed open the door. “I’ll be out here.”

The woman nodded, slipped into the room, and closed the door. Instantly the brown haired man rose from the chair next which was next to the fire.

“We meet again.” She smiled a bit awkwardly.

“We do…” He answered appearing more confident than she felt. “I was hoping we would as I have something for you.”

Eistaron reached down to the chair and picked up the gift as she moved closer. “Here, I made this…for you.”

There, revealed in his hands, was an exquisite, dark grained, wooden flute delicately trimmed with small, thin ribbons of silver and a few specially placed gems of light blue. Carefully she picked it up and examined the craftsmanship. Raising the flute to her mouth she began to produce a series of uneven notes and tones. “This is going to take a little time...” She laughed looking up, but heart filled with gratitude. “…thank you. This is…this is beautiful.” She continued examining the instrument in awe. “I had a special flute once but…”

“I know,” he spoke carefully. “It was one of the items they returned to Minas Tirith.”

Rholarowyn nodded her head knowingly. Many of her beloved items she'd been carrying on her jounery to the South had been returned to the White City after her presumed death. It had been another attempt to convince those in charge she was no longer alive.

“I was there that night, in Minas Tirith when your items were brought in.”

“How could you be?” she asked looking up knowing the situation would have observed only by those with the highest authority.

“At the time I was second in command, to Faramir.”

“Then you are an archer, and a soldier of Ithilien?”

“I was once, but not now.”

The shieldmaiden reevaluated the man before taking a step back. “Faramir does not choose his closest men lightly nor let’s them go easily.”

The man was unthreatened by her challenge. “I was in your cousin favor when he dismissed me and he still holds me in high regard.” Eistaron noted her slight ease. Turning around he then knelt down and began to attend to the dwindling fire. The shieldmaiden eventually took a seat on the nearby bed and watched as the fire burned again. The man remained kneeling in place.

“Rholarowyn, the other night, when you came to the meadow…I did not expect that. I did not expect your willingness, and while I was flattered…beyond flattered, I knew you knew nothing of me.”

“I did not even know your name.” She offered matter-of-factly.

“I suspected..." Eistaron moved back up into the nearby chair and leaned forward. “…what was it you really wanted that night…or should I ask who?”

His question stung but the shieldmaiden did not flinch. For several minutes neither one spoke while he patiently waited. Finally looking up from his gift she still held her eyes met his. “I wanted to forget…”

Why?” He asked gently. “What did you want to forget?”

“That night through your songs,” she began reflectively, "I remembered feeling the freedom I had as a young girl in Rohan. I remembered my innocence before my father’s death and mother’s breakdown. I remembered their love for me. I remembered the simpler times…before the War of the Ring…before the deaths of so many I loved.” She paused again and directed her gaze towards the fire. “I wanted to forget...I just to forget them the and pain of loosing them all.”

“Then you would have been greatly disappointed.” He answered thoughtfully. “Perhaps not in the moment but most likely the next morning.”

Eventually she turned her face and looked directly into his eyes. “I’m sorry, perhaps I should go.” The shieldmaiden then rose to her feet and took a step towards the door.

Estaron also stood and carefully placed his hand upon her right arm. “Rholarowyn wait…what is it you want?”

The woman stopped. “What do you mean?” she asked looking down trying to suppress the tears which were once again threatening to escape.

“Right now, in this moment, what do you want?”

“I want…I want to be home again, in Rohan. I want to ride the wild plains with no threat to myself or my son. I want to be free, forever free, from those who wish to harm us. I want to feel safe and protected…” The tears we now slowly rolling down her face. “..and I want to stop crying every time I find myself alone with a man.”

Eistaron smiled softly understanding some of her inner conflict. There were reasons, several reasons, and some that he knew of, as to why she was kept at the Guild House in Mirkwood for two years, though none of that mattered now. “Rholarowyn, may I hold you?”

The woman nodded yes in affirmation.

Carefully he took the scared woman into his arms. She in turn leaned into his embrace. “Did you think this would be easier…coming home?”

“Yes.” She whispered.

.

Last edited by Rholarowyn on Mon Sep 17, 2012 12:46 pm, edited 5 times in total.

She was struggling with guilt as Ryomer spoke not once but twice of things he heard or saw that none else could. She might have made a comment to Sintarano who obviously found this whole situation extremely funny if she had not given her word to Anoriel that she would not engage the man. Or if she had not been responsible for the Rohirrim's state. But she was and twice over.

The darkness of night had brought with it a cool air and every sound though muffled by the trees around were enhanced. That was the gift of night to her; and so she was the one who heard it. It felt like the tuning of an instrument... but it stopped. But then a voice and words she had heard before. She raised an eyebrow at Anoriel.

"How many men of Rohan in Goronor's house?"
"Eh I am from Rohan you know." Ryomer interrupted.
"We know my friend." Alessan offered to the man as she patted his arm.
"Some..." Eari could swear he did not want her to know how many men he had there. "Why?"
"We're not far."
"How do you know?" It was Alessan and the tone was slightly aggressive. Great! The healer did not like her. And she had the same scowl her aunt used to wear when she came back bruised from a fight with the boys; this trip was going to be a nightmare.
"I can hear them." She answered softly. There was no need to antagonize the healer as well. She might be helpful with Sintarano and Anoriel to a point. The dark man seemed to respect her and her advice. They continued to walk the horses.
"How can you tell they're from Rohan?" It was the healer again. She smiled. She knew the tune, one of the first she'd heard from that country. She answered.
"The fiddles."
"I can hear the music too," Ryomer piped.

Sintarano's struggle seemed to prove too hard this time and he snorted. But Anoriel raised his hand to silence him. He met her eyes: he could hear them too. He signalled them to be entirely silent; she could not help another smile, a knowing one this time. Anoriel was going to test his men's readiness. And so Sintarano was ordered to Ryomer's side that he be made silent if necessary.

They had been close: in fact within another few minutes they could see the house and the fire that was burning. It was almost as silent as a group would be for an attack but she knew before they crossed the edge that they were expected; for one, there was only one fiddle left playing. And she heard the sound of a sword taken out of its scabbard, its soft woosh. She said nothing... Anoriel would guess she had known ahead of time. But she continued as he ordered until...

"Eh, she lied; it's not the Golden Hall... hmpf." Sintarano had jumped to silence Ryomer but too late. Both were on the ground and the dark-haired man was giggling helplessly while Anoriel looked thunderous and Alessan looked ready to smash Sintarano's head with whatever she could find.
"You idiot, could you not avoid that? He does not need more hurting."
Sintarano could not manage to look abashed, his control completely gone. Ryomer though looked a little dazed.
She dismounted as men approached them; Lienoril was one of them and he recognized her.
"Captain," one called to Anoriel. "We expected you earlier."
Anoriel answered with a name and offered explanation but Eari looked only at the Gondorian.
"Rhoe?"
"She's inside. She's alright."
"Earendil." Anoriel's voice rang as she moved towards the house. She turned. "Leave her for now. We will get settled. We need food and we have to ensure Ryomer is well."
"That is low Anoriel, even for you."
He only offered a roguish smile in answer. Of course she would help.
"Anoriel I don't need her help." It was Alessan.

The man's eyes held frustration; surrounded by children. She could almost hear his thoughts.
"I'll help with the horses." She offered. He nodded.
Soon the horses were stabled and she was sitting by the fire where the man who had remained playing the fiddle still played while Alessan and Sintarano looked after Ryomer.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

“The house is ready and warmed.” Goronor’s widow informed as she reentered the main house accompanied by Lark. “You may move him there now.”

With Alessan on one side and Lienoril on the other both helped to raise the Rohirrim to his feet but before they reached the door he forced them to stop.

“Wait!” he demanded and slowly turned around. “I have come to an important decision that I think you all should know.” All eyes in the room focused on the Rohirrim. “I am thinking of getting a wife...”

“Alright,” Lienoril quickly turned the man around. “Let’s go.”

The Rohirrim carried on with his idea as the healer and the Gondorian continued to move him down the stairs and onto the dirt path that led to the second guest house. “I need a wife with spunk…yes spunk…what about that Earendil, she has spunk.”

“She also has a husband.” Lienoril interjected. Totally unaware that she was responsible for his current condition.

“A husband, damn, that won’t work...Hmmmm, well there is Rholarowyn. She has spunk. Don’t you think she has spunk?” He turned to his friend.

“Yes. Ryomer.” Lienoril answered helping the man up the steps and onto the porch. “Rholarowyn does have spunk.”

“She owes me a kiss you know.” He announced as Lienoril pushed open the wooden door and half drug the man into the room.

“Yes I know,” the Gondorian answered, “and a dance.”

“Right…AND a dance!” Ryomer replied as the man and the healer helped him down onto the bed.

“He can’t lie down not completely,” the healer whispered to Lienoril. “We need to keep his head elevated.”

The Gondorian removed a few pillows from the three other beds and piled them up near the head of the bed. Slowly the healer helped the man lie back until he was comfortable.

“What happened?” Lienoril asked when Alessan stood again.

“It would be best if you talked to Anoriel about that.”

He took one final look at his friend before finally leaving the room.

It was a half hour later, after Ryomer had finally fallen asleep, a young woman knocked and entered the room. “M’lady, I would like to offer my assistance. I am well trained in healing and, well, I could get you any supplies you might need.”

“He is not well and not is his right mind; he may say things that he does not really mean.”

“I don’t mind…” she said quietly. “I’d just like to help.”

“Come on in then and take a seat.” The healer rose from her chair. “I have not yet eaten and need to get a plate of food.”

The woman moved eagerly into the empty chair and despite his heavily bruised and swollen face she looked upon the man with nothing but adoration in her gaze. This did not escape the healer's eyes.

“I am thinking of getting a wife...” Ryomer stated as Lienoril and Alessan carried him out of the room. Sintarano threw her a dirty look. He did not have any issue laughing at his friend's misery but he would make sure she knew he held her responsible. As if she needed him to do that; she unlike him could hear what the Rohirrim went on to talk about.

However, Anoriel probably caught the look for he called Sintarano to him and they left the room for a time during which she listened to the music and looked at the fire dance. Whatever it was that the leader had told him Sintarano looked even more upset as he came back and yet as if he had been reminded of a few things that he might have forgotten over the past few days. She remembered another Captain who would do that; there are things that one can ill afford during a campaign or lives would be lost unnecessarily. And whether she liked it or not there was no mistake Anoriel took this particular campaign as one that required extreme caution and no distraction of any sort for his men... and women.

Ah but she had to admit there was distraction, though not of the sort he might imagine from her. The fact was that her mind kept circling back to what was said in the morning and she wondered if she should force herself to open the door to her innermost memories. And what would happen if she did?
"Earendil?" Anoriel called.
"Yes..." As she looked up she noticed Lienoril was back in the room and standing next to the leader. Sintarano was gone: sleeping probably. He would be on duty during the second part of the night.
"The whole night?"
"Yes. Which house?"
"The main one for the first half. You'll relieve Lienoril of his watch mid-way. I'll take your place."
She nodded.

She and Lienoril left the room; another man, one whose name she had not caught yet followed and took his watch by the third house. The skies were clouded here; the stars were hardly visible. The sounds were muffled by the trees surrounding the place; still the men heard them as they arrived. She looked at Lienoril as he was about to go to the house he was watching.
"What gave us away? Before Ryomer's outburst that is. You heard us."
He seemed to think his answer, or maybe he was trying to recall exactly. She knew sometimes she could not tell what had got her on guard; and instinct was not good enough an answer for a captain who was trying to improve the skills of a soldier.

“One in your party made a comment about the music. We would not have heard that if the fiddle hadn’t stopped playing when it did, but first the night owls in the nearby trees scattered and that caught our attention.”
She thought back on it, frowning. She had made the connection between the fiddles and Rohan. She had called their attention to the music... But she had not... She sighed.
"Ryomer." Yes, he had... heard the music too. That was what he said. "I mentioned the fiddles. He heard them too."

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

The Gondorian had entered the small guest house slowly and carefully. There had been no answer when he had quietly knocked yet there were no awkward or intimate sounds either. The air was cool and the room dark except for the few burning embers still glowing. Lienoril remained still as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he was able to make out their two bodies lying atop the bed. Eistaron had his arm protectively wrapped around the shieldmaiden and she had her hand protectively wrapped around a wooden flute.

It was not until the Gondorian relit the fire and the new blaze illuminated the dark walls that Eistaron awoke. Keeping his one arm around the woman, he raised his upper body up and whispered. “Have the others arrived?”

“Yes, about a half hour ago.” Lienoril answered quietly looking at the two. “Has she had any fits?”

“No, she’s been resting soundly.” Eistaron whispered back.

The Gondorian shook his head in acknowledgement.

“Do you have enough men or do you need help with the night watch?”

“We have enough.” Lienoril replied after adding another log onto the fire and then reflected on the irony of the current situation. Eistaron had been a good soldier, a good archer, and oddly enough had been promoted to Faramir’s second-in-command when his other had been killed in the very ambush that had also presumably killed Rholarowyn. Now fate had brought these two together in what was a rather unique situation, though a situation Lienoril knew Eistaron would not take advantage of. “Stay with her tonight…I’ll be outside on first watch and I’ll be sure that someone other than Sintanaro takes the other half. I’ll rest on her bed over there when my watch is over.”

Eistaron nodded and then laid his head back down after the dark haired man quietly shut the door.

Finding Anoriel in the main house Lienoril quickly briefed his leader on the current situation and whereabouts of each person and child and he persistently questioned his leader for an explanation on Ryomer’s condition but the leader was steadfast in his silence. No explanation would be provided this night. He was also informed that Earendil would take over his watch when the time came. Concerned for his friend the Gondorian was in a frustrated mood as he exited the house.

Once outside and lost in his own thoughts, he then heard the voice of Earendil ask. "What gave us away? Before Ryomer's outburst that is. You heard us."

It took Lienoril a moment to shift his thoughts to earlier in the evening. “One in your party made a comment about the music. We would not have heard that if the fiddle hadn’t stopped playing when it did, but first the night owls in the nearby trees scattered and that caught our attention.”

He saw the woman frown and then state, "Ryomer....I mentioned the fiddles. He heard them too."

Dismissing her reply he turned towards the woman and noted her condition. “Earendil, what happened? What happened after we left Daenoras?"
.

"Earendil, what happened? What happened after we left Daenoras?"Lienoril's voice held some concern, probably over his friend's condition.

She looked back at the house they both had left sighing. What had Anoriel told the man? How much could she tell? How much should she tell? She exhaled; if Lienoril was going to ride with them all the way she might as well tell him as much as she could. An exercise in trust....

She told him about the plan on which they agreed to leave Daenora's place and how she had punched him. She explained how Anoriel found her; she did not try to hide her mistakes in her own "capture". She gave him the facts - cold and measured - at least until it came to her understanding that they had been looking for her under another name. She was not ready to go back to that place; she hesitated. She did not give him the name. Maybe later.
"Joham might have told you what I shared with him about not remembering the East. Our discussion well... some walls crumbled; so did I. There are things that one does not want to remember. The mind cannot take it. I could not."

She paused; she was not sure she could take Lienoril's hostility on top of Sintarano's and the healer's.
"I... fought them both he and Anoriel. I needed to get out of that room." She would not go back to that place. She breathed in deeply again. Softly she added "I can't spend the rest of this trip - wherever it leads us - apologizing to every single one of you for what happened. But you have to know I am sorry about this. I did not mean to hurt anyone."

She found herself rooted where she was torn between wanting to hear him say it was alright and needing to step away from him that his anger not wash over her as Alessan's had.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

The Gondorian was speechless as his mind fought against her admission. Ryomer’s current state was all due to…the plan…her capture…the East…forgetting the East…the interrogation…the walls crumbling…but finally her words sunk in.

“You did not mean to harm anyone, really?” Lienoril’s tone was abrupt and he made no effort to cover his doubt as he looked directly at the woman “Then, explain to me how your misguided steps of self-protection managed to leave only Ryomer bruised and battered and yet Anoriel is completely unharmed.”

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

She should have walked away... of course she should not have answered. She should have gone to watch that house and not speak to the man. But she had somehow hoped he would give her news of Rhoe. And she had wanted to know how they knew about their arrival. She had to know. Always had to know. And now she had put the leader in a position where his men were going to question his actions because of her.

She brought her hands to her face trying to chase some of the weariness away. She had slept three days and it suddenly felt as if she had not slept at all. Where are you roval nin? This would not help. This was useless. She had to come back; she had to reclaim who she was once even though she had no wish of going back. What answer could she offer?

"I could tell you Ryomer did what most impulsive youth does when facing a wounded enemy. He went for the kill forgetting that the beast is most dangerous when cornered and with no choice. Which he did in a way... but." She paused. It was so hard to hold onto that cold and calculating way; she could not do it. "He was standing between me and the easiest escape. Misguided as you think it was, I needed to get out of that room. I could not stay there. Anoriel was at the door, which was locked and guarded. Ryomer was standing by the window. On some level, I guess I knew I did not stand a chance against Anoriel. Ryomer was... trying to help. I thought he would let me out. When he didn't..." Again she stopped; Lienoril did not need her to go into details; Ryomer's state was enough to give him an idea.

She was weary; she did not want to have to justify this and she knew there was nothing to this.
"Look I don't need you or Sintarano or Alessan to remind me that Ryomer is in that room drugged out of his wits because of me. I am well aware of it. I understand none of you trust me. Anoriel's only letting me on watch because he knows I won't sleep and he needs all of you rested. I get that. I wish I could tell you I would do things differently if I could go back in time, but the truth is that I can't." She shivered. The Valar knew she did not wish this to ever happen again but it might. Anoriel held the key to that particular door and he did not trust her with it. And rightly so maybe. "I..." No she would not tell him how terrified she had been; he might not understand. He would not hear it, not as she meant him to.

She should let him be, she should go to that spot and be silent and yet...
"And don't be mistaken. Anoriel may look unharmed but he did not get out of there unhurt. None of us did. If he is what he once was, he feels responsible for it all but won't show it until things settle down somewhat."

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

Though she had not said it outright, her answer was enough. Anoriel had faltered before and he would again, and for some reason there always seemed to be one, other than the leader himself, who took the brunt of it. What was it this time that Anoriel had asked Ryomer to and what would have created such a violent reaction from her? Between Earendil and Anoriel there would be no answers, not now, and possibly not ever. However, Ryomer would provide the answer, once he was rested and in his right mind again.

Tonight the Gondorian decided to leave it alone. There was more going on than he was being told, both in the larger picture and between Anoriel and the woman who stood before him. At this point he trusted neither.

“If you wish further protection from us Earendil,” he stated sternly, “I suggest you learn to control whatever it was that caused you to turn on the one who’s duty it was to protect you. The rest of us may not be such gentlemen if we find ourselves in a similar situation.”

The Gondorian then turned towards the direction of the guest house where Rholarowyn and Eistaron were sleeping and Dewelgen was currently keeping watch.

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

“If you wish further protection from us Earendil, I suggest you learn to control whatever it was that caused you to turn on the one who’s duty it was to protect you. The rest of us may not be such gentlemen if we find ourselves in a similar situation.”

He left, which was probably the best thing she could expect. She could not hope he'd understand. Was cold better than hot anger? Maybe but she could not dwell on it and so she - imitating him - took her place on watch sitting on the stairs of the house, her sheathed sword on her lap. Every so often she listened to what was happening in Ryomer's room. Mostly silence and soft breathing; he was resting at least. But her mind went back to Lienoril's last comment.

If you wish further protection..." There was the rub. She did not but she had given her word. Only now that trip promised to be extremely lonely; and if she had to stare at the cold truth, she probably deserved the animosity. And yet how could any of them understand what this was doing to her?

Somewhat surprisingly she found herself wishing it could be as simple for her as it was for Rhoe. And the Valar knew that it had to be awful and hard for her friend. How did you return to a life and a world that had gone on without you for ten years? Could you even do it? But they all understood how hard this was for the Gondorian. She on the other hand must appear as a child who had been spoiled and was throwing a tantrum. She was not. But she could not explain it to them because she did not know why. How do you control something you don't understand?

She tried to stop her mind from repeating the events, trying to figure out if she could have done something differently at the house. In vain; she could not. It would have been frustrating if it had not kept her sharp on some level or if she had not come to some sort of conclusion. Thankfully the night went on empty and silent but for the natural sounds of the forest and of people sleeping. She heard them move in the house as they prepared to replace the ones on watch.

Sintarano moved past her ignoring her entirely - something to be thankful of probably - while Anoriel stopped.
"They will need to be told." She whispered.
"What?"
"Everything Anoriel."
"They don't need to know everything. I don't."
She stood up looking towards Sintarano first and Lienoril then and finally up to the dark man.
"You have no choice left. Either you tell them or they won't follow you on this road." He remained silent. "Captain," it was her turn to remind him what he was. She had put him in a situation where his men were doubting him. And that she knew was not right. "I may not be ready for it but hiding the past from them may endanger the present you are trying to protect. Tell them."

She walked away from him and silently took Lienoril's place; the man must have seen her talk to Anoriel but made no comment as he entered the house where he'd sleep.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

The earthen path was soft and her bare feet left imprints embedded within the fine grains of sand as she walked. Small, single line roads of red ants, like the ones found in the East, were traveling their own path and intersected with one another at odd places upon the earth. However, the landscape clearly revealed she was not in the East. Dense, green foliage almost her height was lining the trail on both sides. It did not take long for her to recognize she was on the same route she had taken 2 nights ago when she had followed the music. It was now dusk and the only notes to be heard were from the various birds flittering about. As the surrounding bushes became sparser, leafless trees appeared; skeletons of their previous selves grey and charred. Their lifeless limbs clutched the air reaching upward, frozen in time; it was their last, final plea for escape before their life had been extinguished forever.

Evidence was now visible everywhere, a fire so hot and single-minded had swept through these lands incinerating everything in its path. Though it was almost 10 years ago the land still bore the scars. With one foot following the other she continued until finally the path opened up into a meadow which was carpeted with wispy, brown grass. Surrounding the large field were more tree skeletons, sentries from a time not so long ago. They had clearly lost the battle but perhaps not the war. Off set from the center stood one tall, majestic oak; a reminder of what once was, and it had survived. As she approached this sacred spot the tree was obviously from an ancient time. Gently she reached out and allowed her finger to trace the bark. Gnarled and twisted, it was rough to the touch, yet as she circled the huge trunk her hand could feel its life force.

“You have returned.” The wind whispered through the leaves. “Though the one you seek is no longer here.”

She paused and looked up into the canopy of green as the breeze careened down and gently swept the loose strands of her hair. The soft essence of innocence surrounded her and then slowly filtered through each pore and into her very being.

“See those on the edge?” The tree whisper asked. The woman, now in the body of her younger self continued to circle the tree but wrapped one arm around the trunk and turned slowly towards the direction of the outer meadow. The tree whisper continued, “Even they could not protect her.”

“But you are still here.” The woman child spoke aloud.

“Yes, but only because I was alone and not there with them.”

“So you were spared?”

“The hand of men can bring destruction, but the hand of men can also rebuild.”

Now she was five, alive, safe, free of the fears, and scars of her older self, and her voice and being were more childlike. “This is a lesson, isn’t it?” She giggled to the tree as she spun herself around the trunk. “Like my father used to teach.”

As the young child circled around the tree once again and gazed out, a beautiful, white mare walked through the dead trees and into the meadow. Pausing to smell the wind, she then lowered her head to nibble on the dry grass. Colorful spring flowers had been braided into the snow white mane.

“Can I go to her?” The child asked longingly.

“Of course.” The tree whispered.

As the young child of five frolicked across the grass she was completely oblivious to the change going on within her own body. Every two steps added a year and when she finally reached the gentle beast she was once again 35 years of age. The reunion between horse and human was gentle with soft nuzzlings and murmurs of long forgotten affections. With the ease of experience the woman clutched a braid and easily swung herself up upon the beast’s back. Just as when she was young, the horse began to walk. There was no destination, no place they had to be, just the two off exploring the natural world around them.

Time passed and the mare finally took to a dirt road. Further off in the distance the charred limbs and trunks of dead trees still lined the horizon but the nearby land showed signs of recovery and rebirth. Trees were springing to life from the ground and being fed from a nearby stream. Small bushes bore berries and fruit while yellow and purple flowers dotted the green, grassy knolls.

Suddenly the mare stumbled and collapsed to the ground. The woman instinctively rolled off and away. Crawling back to her friend, Nighala was taking a shallow breath. Tears filled the woman’s eyes. This was how it had happened before…this breath would be the mare’s last…

“NO!” the woman screamed as the mare became frozen in time and much to her horror began to melt ever so slowly into the ground. Panic filled the woman as she flung her self backwards into the dust and the weight of her adult life returned. Curling into a ball, every fiber in her being fought against the flooding of her memories now invading every pore…yet something emerged from the fog…

“Rholarowyn,” the calm tree voice whispered. “you are safe…” And with the voice came the gentle reassuring touch of a hand like pressure upon shoulder. “It will be alright…”

The woman opened her eyes cautiously and there, where her mare had died now stood a vibrant, young pine tree whose highest branches were twice her height.

“You have returned.” The wind whispered through the long slender needles. “Though the one you seek is no longer here.”

“Rholarowyn…” Came a new and different voice.

The world where she was standing in pulled away.

“You are safe…”

She was loosing connection to the tree, to the woods, to the land of destruction and rebirth…

“It will be alright…”

It was a voice, not of this world but of the other, she could not stay…

(Estaron POV)

It was not long after the sun had peeked over the horizon when, with a jolt, Estaron had awoken to the screaming of that single word…”NO!” He immediately knew not to wake her but still lying next to the shieldmaiden; he gently placed his hand upon her shoulder. Carefully and calmly he then began talking in an attempt to ease her back to this world. Lienoril was next to the bed a moment later and an instant after that Earendil was inside the room as well.

“Where is Nayaran?” Rholarowyn asked once she recognized her surroundings and the three concerned faces looking down at her.

“He is safe; he is in the main house.” Lienoril answered quickly.

The shieldmaiden nodded and then pushed herself up onto the edge of the bed. Instantly everything felt as though it was going to cave in. “I need air!”

Before anyone could protest she was up on her feet and blted towards the door when Sintanaro, who had stopped in the doorway a minute before to observe, spread out his arms against the door opening and prevented her exit. “And where do you think…” a moment later the dark haired man was rolling on the ground writhing in pain. The shieldmaiden’s knee had made a direct hit with the man’s groin.

Leaving the others behind, Eistaron jumped over the man’s body and was quickly behind Rholarowyn who, once she reached the trees at the edge of the field, stopped.

Once Sintanaro could finally speak he relayed the message to Lienoril and Earendil that Anoriel wanted them both to be present, as soon as possible, for a meeting he was holding in Ryomer’s room and wanted finished well before breakfast.

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

She heard Rhoe's cry and was on her feet within seconds, in the room mere moments later. But she stopped in her tracks as she took in the situation. Suddenly she felt like she was intruding having burst into a place of trust and peace despite the scream that had torn the silent dawn. The man was holding Rhoe in such a caring and careful embrace that she almost retreated when her friend opened her eyes asking for her son.

As her friend sat up she recognized the veil that covered her eyes and moved. The shieldmaiden needed to be out in the same urgent way she had the day before and though she did not know why she understood the need as no men in the room could. She even found herself starting to warn Sintarano to move and let her friend get out but all was too fast and the man was soon on the floor in a lot of pain. Anoriel would not be happy about that.

Yet she did not even find it in herself to snicker... She did not even want to point out to Lienoril that her friend had just done the exact same thing she did to Ryomer though it might have been tempting. The truth was she at least felt that there would be someone who would understand why she fought two men to leave that room. But as Eistaron followed Rholarowyn outside she sighed sadly. Why would they always assume that they were trying to escape their protection? Kneeling by the man she extended her hand to help him up if he could. For a while he was only trying to breathe in and out fighting the one pain no woman could understand. But he only ignored her... and they said she was stubborn.

Finally though he was able to say that they were expected in Ryomer's room and then she found sarcasm and weariness. She was about to be in a room once more with men intent on preventing her from going anywhere; and most of them just hated her right now. Fantastic!
It actually seemed to start just then. Lienoril walked ahead of her and Sintarano behind. They were not letting her out of their sight.
She sighed again and she stopped as she entered the house. Sintarano might have bumped into her if he had had less instincts.
"Wait." She asked.
"What?" The man's voice was stern.
She removed the sheath that held her sword from her belt and pulled the dagger that always rested in her boot and gave both to the dark-haired man. He raised an eyebrow at her, whether surprised or doubtful she did not know nor did she care. It was what needed to be done and she knew it no matter how she felt about it.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

The three entered the room and it did not go unnoticed by Anoriel that Sintanaro not only was holding Earendil’s weapons, but that he was also not walking normally. The dark haired man gingerly took a seat and Anoriel shot a reproaching glance at the woman.

Looking at Lienoril the leader asked. “What happened to him?”

The Gondorian took a few paces across the room, leaned in, and whispered the latest turn of events.

“She did WHAT!?! The leader retorted with a bemused and weary tone.

What followed next was an issue of new strategy. Earendil’s weapons were returned to her as she would not be remaining in the room. In fact it was decided by the leader that neither woman should be present in the room due to the nature of the details that needed to be revealed.

After retrieving Nayaran and his friend from the main house, it was Lienoril who escorted Earendil and the two boys over to where Eistaron and Rholarowyn were sitting not far from a small, running stream and talking quietly.

“Anoriel has called a meeting and we need your assistance help keep watch over these three, well these four, until we finish.”

“Is this official?” The brown haired man asked as he took his bow and a small dagger from the Gondorian.

“Let’s say It is a temporary assignment.” Lienoril answered. There was reluctance in attaining the man’s help. Not due to his service record, or even his lack of training over the last four years. The Gondorian knew that the bond between the two brothers had been tight and his loss was still fresh. However, Anoriel had recognized their limited options at the moment and since all the men of the Knighthood needed to be present, Eistaron was the obvious choice for watching the small group.

Rholarowyn rose to join those standing and the small assemblage made their way up to the other guest house where the meeting was not being held. Once they reached the porch Lienoril spoke again.

“It would be safest if you remained inside and Eistaron remained here to keep guard.

There was no argument or discussion. The two young boys entered first, eager to continue their game of cards on the floor near the slightly warm hearth. Rholarowyn and Earendil took a place further back in the room once the shieldmadien and replaced the flute in her grasp with her small knife and sword.

Standing in the the half open door Lienoril spoke. “I’ll be back when we are finished and inform you what the next step is.”

Once Lienoril turned and the door was closed he looked over at the brown haired man who was now seated in the corner of the porch and had his bow in hand. “They need to stay inside, all of them.”

Lienoril paused for a moment as if wanting to provide an additional warning, but the look in the seated man’s eyes revealed that he understood what was needed of him. The Gondorian then stepped off the porch and made is way back to the second guest house which was located beyond the main house. Once back in the room he took note of the situation. Ryomer was propped up in the bed with the nastiest shade of purple and blue on his face he’d ever seen. Alessan was not to far from his side. In the chairs across the room sat Tyrelles and Dewelgen, and Sintanaro sat awkwardly in the chair he had claimed earlier at the foot of Ryomer’s bed.

Lienoril remained upright and backed up against the post next to the open door and, after crossing his arms, waited for Anoriel to begin.

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Anoriel looked at Lienoril as he entered back in the room; the man's body language was clear. In fact he knew that each of these men was deciding whether or not they trusted him. He had not needed Earendil to tell him that. But she had given him the right to tell them what she went through even though she did not remember and he still was not certain Sintarano or Lienoril could handle that information. Yet, he had to make sure they all understood what was at stake here, which was more than what they were told at the onset of this particular assignment.

He looked at Alessan and smiled. She was not particularly happy with him just now but she would understand. She had worked with his company in the South and she knew how sometimes the wounds went deeper than people could see.
"You have questions and doubts I know about what has happened over the past few days. So do I. Before I share the information I have, I need you to realize and understand that I do not know everything." He paused. "I thought that maybe the King did but as it happens even he does not." That he could not fully explain to them yet. "There are many unknown, one of which now appears to be Zochella." He raised his hand as Lienoril appeared to be willing to interrupt. "But before we get there, Earendil has allowed me to share with you what she cannot remember."

He looked at Ryomer. "I should not have let you handle that on your own. That was my mistake. She had not recognized me; I assumed she would not remember even with your prompting. I did not even imagine she could go that far this fast. And I feared she would break if I intervened and reminded her the entire truth. I still fear she will."
"What are you saying Captain?" Dewelgen asked. "You knew the peredhel from before?"
He nodded. Lienoril would have known that from the meeting he had with Joham but he did not know the details.
"I will be honest. I do not believe you need to know of these events or are even ready to handle them. But Earendil has a point; if we are going to ride together you need to know the paths that brought us to this crossroad. However you will not - and that is an order - speak of these with her or Rholarowyn."

And so he told them what Ryomer heard a few days before about the time he spent in the East with the peredhel. Though he presented it in a more perfunctory manner, there was no hiding the truth from the Rohirrim or from Alessan. Ryomer had seen for himself how these events still affected him and Alessan knew him better than most. She would know how he saw this; he failed to protect the peredhel once and he would not fail a second time. in turn, he knew her; he could tell from the way her eyes moved - though the expression on her face never changed - that she was horrified. And angry; angry at him for never talking to her about it before, angry at herself for not understanding why the peredhel reacted the way she did. And angry at him again for putting Ryomer in a situation that could not have any other outcome than the one it had.

He turned to the Rohirrim then; there were a few reasons why he should be the one telling them about the events in the room. Once he was done, the others could voice their concerns and questions.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

The room held a surreal haze as the Rohirrim looked around and saw all eyes on him. “I did my best to follow Anoriel’s orders,” Ryomer began. “We thought if we could help her remember certain details, she could better help us understand where the threats are coming from now. I took her down the path of memories, slowly and carefully, though not carefully enough. Earendil’s mind is quick and she started to make connections faster than I anticipated...”

He paused as his voice began to get raspy and Alessan handed him a mug full of cool water. The Rohirrim drank almost half before returning the cup back to the healer and then continued. “Though from what I can remember she didn’t turn against me until Anoriel entered the room, then suddenly she became a wildcat claiming she had to get out. Anoriel blocked the door and I the window…yet despite being on the second floor, she chose the window. It took everything I had to keep her from jumping, and honestly I don’t know what stopped her. Perhaps it was the blood…”

Lienoril, who was still standing with arms crossed, was the first to speak up to the leader. “So when she turned you were in the room, with them, and yet he looks like this and you unscathed.”

Ryomer eagerly awaited the leader’s answer. Though he could not have known Lienoril had also asked the same question of Earendil, the Rohirrim was all too aware that Anoriel had not come to his defense, nor offered any assistance, when he was under her frantic assault.

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

“So when she turned you were in the room, with them, and yet he looks like this and you unscathed.”

Of course. But Alessan cut in.
"What did you tell her before she became a... wildcat?"
She was extremely serious as if she were assessing a wound and its effects. He looked at the Rohirrim then back at the healer as he repeated his and Ryomer's last words before Earendil panicked. And he saw Alessan's face changed.
"You both are idiots." He flinched at the tone. "She did not remember. She will have understood from what you told her." She rolled her eyes. "Of course she reacted the way she did."

"Alessan, be clearer." He had not been in that room before that; what did the healer understand that they had not.
"Ryomer's questions will have made her realize that the women were dead. You both said she was fast. She understood that there was no other possible outcome for Khalid's wives. They had to have died. They could not have survived. But then you're telling her she was there. She was there and they died, whereas she is alive. She did not save them; she is responsible for these women's death. Not indirectly anymore. That room must have felt like it was shrinking around her. You are lucky she did not break."

She looked at him; there had been no feeling involved in her reading of what happened in that room. But there had been feelings... there still were. He bowed his head.
"That is why I did not... why I could not intervene. When she came at me, I could not restrain her. There was that same light, or rather darkness really, in her eyes..." How could he explain that to them? "Something broke in her in Rhun back then; she shut down for days and then she tried to die. She almost succeeded; twice even before Nurnen."

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

Lienoril held his tongue and kept his anger in check until there was a pause in the conversation.

“Excuse me!” he said forcefully directly at Alessan. “Despite what you think of their actions, neither one of these men had any malice towards or intention to harm Earendil, instead they did what they thought was best to help her and help our current situation. You speak as though Ryomer had no regard for her welfare. The man said he went carefully and cautiously. He is also wearing the evidence on his face as of what preventing her from jumping from the window cost him. We, each one of us men here in the room, are not the enemy, and we all better figure out a way to get this group working together and help both those women or there will be worse results than what we have here with Ryomer and Sintanaro.”

Turning towards the leader he continued. “Sir, we need to regroup and we need to get a plan in place now, for all of us. May I also suggest that you dismiss the healer from the room so we do not have further interruption as to her inappropriate opinions about our competency?”

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Anoriel's glance had hurt; she promised him she would not fight or antagonize Sintarano. That he could doubt her stung. And yet what did she expect? She gave him her word; he should trust that if nothing else. Was there no other way around this? Could he not acknowledge his assumption had been wrong? Not with an apology, she did not need one, but maybe... no of course not. There was so much he had to answer for because of her. He could not look weak.

In some ways though being dismissed from the room was a relief. They would not understand; they would judge her. They already had. The loneliness felt like a heavy cloak on her shoulders. There was a time when that loneliness might have been a welcome one but not now. Silently she followed Lienoril. He would not look at her and in fact it was more to Rholarowyn that he spoke as he asked them to remain inside. There was no point in arguing; and she had given her word she would do as asked.

“They need to stay inside, all of them.” She could not tell if Rhoe heard that but she sighed. Was there no end to the distrust?
“I understand.” And there was another man who would not let her go anywhere without being weary of everything she did. She could have screamed or cried in frustration really.

Instead she turned towards her friend who still looked somewhat shaken.
"Rholarowyn?" she whispered - her voice slightly hoarse with the feelings that had been threatening to overwhelm her for the past day. "Rhoe, what happened?"
There was a plea in her tone... she needed her friend to answer in a way that she did not even understand. She could not have explained it, but it felt as if she had been deprived of any true bond with anyone for days and her heart was parched for the waters of friendship and understanding.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

‘What Happened?’ the thought rolled over and over in the shieldmaiden’s mind as she gazed down at her hands which still held Eistaron’s gift. Did her friend mean this morning, 3 days ago, 2 years ago, or 10 years ago? The question was daunting enough but the tone in Eari’s voice as she asked it was a tone the shieldmaiden had not heard in a very long time. Looking up towards her longtime friend Rholarowyn finally answered and though she kept her voice low, the trace of an Eastron accent could be heard lingering in her reply.

“It was a dream Eari, just a dream, though not of the East, or even of the South, but one here just off the farm. In it I became young again, the age I was in Rohan, and for a time I was safe and innocent and there were no memories to haunted me or people to judge me…but, I could not stay there…”

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Only a dream...
for a time I was safe and innocent and there were no memories to haunt me or people to judge me…but, I could not stay there…

There was no mistaking the accent in her friend's voice. Rholarowyn had adopted the East, no married it really. The West was a memory of another time. For just an instant Eari felt they were a world apart. Maybe they were; or maybe it was just because both of them felt as if every single of their action was being judged. The loneliness of it was somewhat overwhelming.

What could she answer though? She knew that hers and Rhoe's situations were much different. Her friend's choice to love put her in a place that meant the West would look at her with suspicion. Her son was the reason for her not being trusted; that child would be judged for merely being born. She sighed...
"People always judge my friend. You might have been innocent and safe from dark memories yes, but always people judge. You and I should know."

She had long not been innocent; but if a boy of nine years old could show a girl of six that she was being judged for that very innocence and for the fact that she was born a girl, then there was no time in one's life that people were not measured and judged. She looked at Nayaran and realized that she was thinking of Brianna's son and her own. B*stard, unwanted... all of them had been judged before they could even understand what it meant.

She was wandering dark paths... she had been for a few days; Ryomer and Anoriel had set her on this road and she was having a hard time walking away from it. She looked at the flute and her eyes moved to where the man was sitting outside. Turning back to her friend, she smiled softly.
"One of them seems not to judge though." She did not want to push her friend, neither did she want to be nosy as she pointed to the flute Rhoe held. "Did he know you play?"

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free

“He did…” She smiled lifting the silver trimmed, wooden flute slightly. “…isn’t it nice?” Rholarowyn’s voice then turned somber. “The flute Nin gave to me was returned with the other items I had with me on the convoy to the South…he was there, that night, when my items were brought to Faramir and the others of the High Council.”

So this man was in Minas Tirith when words of Rhoe's demise had come. But she, Eari, her friend, her sister in arms, was not. "I am sorry..." She knew her friend was not blaming her for not being there but it seemed forgiveness was something she needed too. "I should have been there too."

This sheildmaiden turned to her friend and could see the brief glimmer of hope etched on her face along with sense of sadness. “Perhaps it was better that you were not.” Rholarowyn offered her words as reassurance. “Besides, I was told there was a body, a woman’s body, which fit my size and shape but was beyond recognition. I would not have wanted you to see that.” The shieldmaiden abruptly changed the topic. “Do you remember the Bard’s festival where I sang the tribute to Boromir?’

“How could I not remember? Your song freed me in so many ways.” Eari answered

For the two women it had been a shared time in their past, a common moment, a time when the pain of his death had brought them closer together. In this moment now Rholarowyn closed her eyes and with only the notes of the nearby birds to accompany her, she softly began to sing those very same words once again...

Long agoThere was a great King’s sonIsildur was heHad many battles won

He wasLoved and by many knownA champion of menWho first shared Gondor’s throne

Not firstTo bear the ring of goldBut the first deceivedBy power that it holds

Glory And heirloom gainedBut not without it’s priceSo bought with a great pain

Small band of dark power, man’s will ever seekingPreying on desire, deep into his soul still reaching

In his last few moments, choosing the safety of retreatThe Great River providing, the place which saw his last defeat

AloneWhen he reappearedAbandoned by his baneFleeing what he feared

His ownLife he couldn’t saveAnd the Water’s depthsBecame a warrior’s grave

Another Son who was a Steward’s heirBoromir was heOf noble deeds and dare

Not firstTempted by the ringBut a mislead hopeIn it he still did cling

YearningDrove him to the endSeeking the need for strength His people to defend

Small band of dark power, man’s will ever seekingPreying on desire, deep into his soul was reaching

In his last few moments, on the hill of Amon HenThe error of his ways seeing, his final battle he did win

FriendsAnd their hands of graceLaid him to rest in theAnduin’s embrace

.

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant, no thought from your bow is misspent, no image falls short of your target, so true are the arrows thus sent. Your heart with a steady compunction pulls the bowstrings few others could ply, your story does more than just function-- your steady hand helps my heart fly!

She could feel the tears well up in her eyes though they remained unshed; that song had meant so much to her. Someone had given words to what she had been feeling since she was told Boromir died. She had not been able to grieve for him until then. This song had meant that someone else felt his absence in the way she did. She had known it somewhere in her heart but it was a release of the pain that had been building up inside her for so much time. Until that poem she had not realized how suffering had weighed on her.

There was so much pain then; still somewhere deep inside there was a laugh. And so many things passing through her mind. She remembered how Boromir had ever seemed to have expectations of her, of them, whether he knew it or not. He had judged both of them in his own way, the one way he knew: war. When they met his expectations he let himself see them as persons; and he had. Deep inside, there was a soft laugh too when it came to her that throughout the years the two men she had loved were related to the woman in front of her.

And so when her friend finished she chuckled through the tears.
"Who would have known?" Her friend looked at her. "You were my friend, my sister before I knew of love. But love has now brought me twice into... your family."

She knew there was much they had to discuss with regards to that; but she could not escape the thought that it was a circle. Was it fate? Destiny? War had brought them together, love had bound them together in ways they could not have foreseen or expected.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good.

It's funny how some distanceMakes everything seem smallAnd the fears that once controlled meCan't get to me at allIt's time to see what I can doTo test the limits and break throughNo right, no wrong, no rules for meI'm free